Chapter 1636: Within the City Walls

Shi Hao’s emotions remained unsettled for a long time. Within the Bronze Immortal Hall, true immortals slumbered, and beyond that, there were still immortals existing in the world—ones who bore deep enmity with the Kun Peng?

“How many people remain in the city?” Shi Hao finally asked after a long silence.

“Not many. Some clans have been completely wiped out, while others are left with only the elderly, the weak, the sick, and the disabled. The strong have nearly all perished in battle,” the one-armed elder sighed, his voice tinged with desolation and sorrow.

This was a lone city, abandoned without reinforcements, standing at the forefront. Even with its abundance of experts, it could not withstand such relentless attrition.

Gazing at the city walls, at the mottled scars of battle, Shi Hao seemed to hear the echoes of war cries. Vaguely, the scenes he had witnessed aboard the ancient black ship resurfaced in his mind.

Many had defended the city, with the strongest being the Seven Kings of the Borderlands. Yet the enemies were too numerous, fighting relentlessly, their blood staining the land.

In the end, even women, children, the elderly, and the young had climbed the walls to join the defense, participating in the bloody war.

“Must the tragedies of the past continue to unfold?” Shi Hao murmured to himself, resentful on behalf of his clansmen who had shed their blood at the front, only to be betrayed from behind.

“The Nine Heavens have failed us. Even if those two or three true immortals are on the verge of death, they should not have remained silent,” the one-armed elder sighed softly.

They had not stood up for the Shi Clan, the Fire Clan, or others, allowing slander to spread unchecked—something that infuriated the elder.

“Beyond that, there may be other sources of misunderstanding. In the past, the kings of this city once beheaded great figures of the Nine Heavens and even allowed some creatures to flee to the foreign realm,” the elder suddenly revealed some old secrets.

Allowed creatures to flee to the foreign realm?

Shi Hao’s thoughts raced. Why?

Were they spies, pretending to defect?

But the one-armed elder said no more, only sighing lightly. There were surely deeper secrets hidden within.

“Regardless, there are those in the Nine Heavens who know the full truth, yet they allowed other clans to slander ours. This is unacceptable!” the elder said coldly.

Shi Hao pondered, realizing that the waters of the Nine Heavens ran deep, with mysteries beyond his current understanding.

“After all these years, must we continue to hold this lone city at such cost?” Shi Hao asked again. Was it worth it?

“Is it not good that we stand at the front, allowing our clansmen to flourish behind us?” The elder smiled, but the expression carried a deep sorrow. This lineage had resolved to defend the city to the death.

What of the Seven Kings? Did any still live? This was a question Shi Hao desperately wanted answered.

Those seven towering figures, whose roars shook the sun and moon and shattered mountains and rivers, who had held back the armies of the foreign realm—were they truly peerless? Could he see them with his own eyes?

Finally, unable to hold back, Shi Hao asked.

“Some still live, but their time is short. The others perished in battle, burning their own bones to empower this city,” the one-armed elder said, his expression numb.

Beneath his stoic demeanor lay grief and desolation, but after so many deaths—even the Seven Kings falling one by one—what more could be said?

Burning their own bones to empower the city? Shi Hao was puzzled. He looked toward the base of the city walls, where immortal bones were being burned.

“Something like that. But beneath these walls lie the bones of our enemies, their power being drained by the city. The Seven Kings, after their deaths, willingly burned their true forms, igniting their treasure bones to fuel the city,” the elder explained.

Shi Hao was deeply moved.

“The foreign realm has immortals, even ancient ancestors of higher realms. If an Immortal King were to attack, could this place hold?” Shi Hao asked, his mind filled with questions.

“We have endured all these years. As you can see, the lone city still stands,” the elder sighed. But at what cost? How many lives had been sacrificed?

Shi Hao trembled. How had they managed it? Even with endless sacrifices, holding the line seemed impossible.

“This ancient city contains immense power. Through it, we can harness the strength of the Abyss to halt the advance of the foreign realm’s supreme experts,” the elder said.

Shi Hao learned a shocking truth: controlling this city meant wielding the power of the Abyss, the very force that had stalled the foreign armies.

“What is the Abyss?”

“A sea of laws, the supreme power of judgment! Before the severing of heaven and earth, even the Immortal Domain lent its aid, leaving behind its arrangements. But that power is nearly exhausted. The Abyss is connected to the Immortal Domain, perhaps even linked directly,” the elder revealed frankly.

Shi Hao’s heart trembled. The secrets he was learning today were monumental.

“Let us enter the city,” the one-armed elder said, leading Shi Hao inside—the first time in countless years that he had brought an outsider in, his guard completely lowered.

Shi Hao had many questions. Though the elder had already shared great secrets, there was no time to delve deeper. He needed to understand more.

He sensed that the elder was burdened, as if wrestling with a decision, something weighing heavily on his mind.

“Elder, what troubles you?” Shi Hao asked.

“The final battle approaches. This lone city, this desolate land, may soon meet its end,” the elder sighed softly.

“What?!” Shi Hao was stunned. The final battle was coming?

This was an event of immense significance—but did those in the new Imperial Pass know?

“We have long foreseen it. In the coming days, an immortal may come to breach our gates, truly beginning the annihilation of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths,” the one-armed elder said.

At that moment, a faint light flickered at the city gates, and the two vanished from their spot, reappearing inside the city.

Within, the city seemed to possess a colossal spiritual presence, inspecting them before allowing their manifestation.

The ancient city was quiet, vast and empty. A few elders, leading ragged children, approached to scrutinize Shi Hao.

Of course, there were others in the city, but compared to its grand scale, their numbers were pitifully few.

Scarred by war, this once-glorious city now stood on the brink of ruin. Dried blood stained the ground; the streets and buildings were worn with age.

As Shi Hao walked forward, he saw women and children—small, dirty faces filled with tension as they stared at him.

There was no laughter, no joy. The city was suffocatingly heavy, its atmosphere oppressive.

“The ominous substance once nurtured some experts of the foreign realm. Some say it originated from the deepest parts of that realm—but others disagree,” the elder said as they walked, sharing more of the past.

Every word he spoke was a revelation to Shi Hao.

“That is…” Shi Hao’s gaze fixed on a distant palace, engulfed in roaring flames, its structure nearly transparent.

Faintly, he could see several kings seated within, their true forms burning, their bones alight, their flesh releasing essence to empower the city.

“The Seven Kings, even in death, still guard this place,” the elder said calmly.

But Shi Hao knew the sorrow, the helplessness, the tragedy behind it all. These were figures of legend, yet their end was pitiable.

Nearby, a child wept—a gaunt, small figure with a dirt-streaked face, wiping tears as they looked at the palace.

The child’s sobs were stifled yet raw, tugging at the heartstrings of all who heard.

“The descendants of the Seven Kings… now live in misery,” the one-armed elder sighed softly.

Was their sacrifice worth it?

Yet their ancestors had decreed it: defend this city to the death, never retreat. They would stand or fall with it.

“I hope you can take these children away,” the elder said, willing to defy ancestral orders for the first time, to let them live.

“Mother, when will Father return?” A child of four or five, clad in tattered beast-hide, asked nearby.

“When you grow up,” the woman replied, tears in her eyes.

“And my brothers? Why haven’t they come back either?” the child pressed.

The woman nearly broke down. She had lost her husband and three sons. The questions cut like knives.

Such scenes were common in the city, where nearly all the strong had perished.

“Grandmother, when will I see Father? And my uncles, my brothers… they’ve been gone so long. And Grandfather—I’ve never even met him,” a small girl in a corner asked timidly.

The elderly woman, her body withered, her face deeply lined, said nothing. She only reached out a rough hand to gently stroke the girl’s dirty cheek.

“Take all the women and children. Let them leave this place,” Shi Hao said, deeply moved and heartbroken.

For these were the everyday tragedies of the city, each carrying unbearable sorrow.

Shi Hao’s heart was heavy as he walked through the ancient, isolated Imperial Pass, learning its truths. There was no room for joy—only suffocating weight.

And now, the final battle loomed. What fate awaited them? Perhaps the end of all things here was near.